Reality

Over the last few days, it has come to light that the whole balloon boy saga was a hoax. If you don’t know what the balloon boy saga even is, then you must have been vacationing somewhere without television, newspapers, or the ability to tweet or reach Facebook.

When the first blips of the story began to filter through the airwaves and the internet, I was annoyed that any parent would leave something as enticing as a floating, silvery, quasi-spaceship within access of any little boy and his Star Wars fueled imagination.

But as the day wore on, I wondered if this adrenaline junkie father had a bright idea for publicity that he didn’t completely think through. I felt guilty for even thinking such a thing. Then, I found my suspicions were correct, and I wasn’t the only one who thought the whole thing suspect.

I haven’t been able to figure out why this has made me so angry. For obvious reasons, yes. But, I have been more angry and upset than I can remember about this story than others like it. I am furious that a parent or parents would use their child as a bargaining chip to try and find reality-tv fame. I am incensed thinking about the level of manipulation that took place in that household, and how stressful it must have been for a six-year-old to handle. Now, add to this the fact that that same six-year-old will undoubtedly feel guilt for the charges his parents face and the negative scrutiny on their whole family.

But I think what makes me angriest of all is the hold that reality tv shows have on the country right now. I have been as guilty as anyone of watching some of these shows, and even in horror at times, have been unable to look away. But not only are some of the shows distasteful, ridiculous, and at times frightening, the quest to be a part of these fiascoes is more of all of those things.

Average middle-class people now see the new get rich scheme: exploit the worst possible parts of yourself, exaggerate everything, be bigger and worse than you can imagine, and wait for the audience. And, they will come.

The networks are to blame. The Bad Girls Club, Bridezillas,—I mean seriously. These shows are nothing more than filming people who are borderline sociopaths at their worst, and bating them to heighten the craziness.

The newest crop of shows to me is even scarier. The premise—such as with the show Reality Hell—is to pull in unsuspecting fame chasers by “casting” them in a reality tv show, which in truth is all a set up, made to humiliate them. If no one in the network boardroom can see the writing on the wall—that these humiliation-based plot lines will undoubtedly end badly one day—really badly—I am at a loss.

So, yes the networks are to blame. But, the viewers are just as guilty. As larger and larger audiences tune in every week to watch the next televised train wreck, and the networks strive to make their wreck bloodier for sweeps week, the blame seems evenly split.
I have to wonder also…these people who so desperately want this chance for reality show stardom…have they not paid attention? What relationships have survived the daily presence of cameras and the 24 hour audience watching and criticizing their every move? What marriages have ended? What families have been torn apart? It is inevitable. The media scrutiny of the whole Jon and Kate Plus 8 scandal should be a lesson for everyone, including the network brass AND the viewers. Who are these shows really benefiting? You can argue different sides. But I can tell you one thing for damn sure, those eight children are not benefiting one iota.

Looking at the guide on my television screen, giving me options of what to view, I am astounded as to how few shows aren’t reality shows. I don’t want to be left with only the choice of The Girls Next Door or The Kardashians or Kendra to watch. I find myself turning off the television in disgust more often lately, which these days, is not a bad thing.

Like this economic recession we are all struggling through right now, I hope that the television mudslide of reality programming somehow corrects itself. At the very least, I hope there is some hesitation in programs featuring children. I know the odds on that, though. As families break apart before our very eyes, and the two sides split, the only lesson learned seems to be how to pit one side against the other, and from the shattered pieces, create competing shows.

I wonder if Falcon Heene wouldn’t have fared better floating off in that balloon.